


And It Whispers When I Rest

by Joanna_Kay



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Episode continuation, Gen, about a missing person, canon curandera and possible magic, familial guilt and anger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanna_Kay/pseuds/Joanna_Kay
Summary: Michelle Blake as she performs the curandera's spell in an effort to find her missing younger sister.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5
Collections: Fan Fiction Library (Discord) Challenge #1: 20 Prompts





	And It Whispers When I Rest

**Author's Note:**

> This is un-beta'd but has been spelling and grammar checked and read through, so please excuse any mistakes.
> 
> This is a response to two separate Discord server event challenges. The first, from Fanfiction Library, was to embed the dialogue: "Did we get it/him/her/them?" The second, from Fanfiction HQ, was simply: Warmth.
> 
> I hope you like it!

Michelle Blake felt like all kinds of an idiot as she wandered through the upscale organic market that she assumed was her best bet to find the ingredients the spell the curandera had told her to. With every single step, she wanted to turn around and leave, her skin itching with the feeling that she didn’t belong there in that expensive store.

Not that Marta had given her the name of the place and instructed her to shop there. Given that she hadn’t even known what bergamot was until Owen Strand told her, she knew she wouldn’t find at least one ingredient at her corner market. Michelle had also done a bit of research on curandera and witchcraft.

Thank the Almighty for smartphones. They made embarrassing research a bit easier to bear, knowing that it was thumbprint locked and no one else could get to it.

Witchcraft was said to be an earth religion, more or less. All natural and organic just seemed… right.

She didn’t quite know what she was doing there so far out of her comfort zone, she admitted, but she would do a lot for Iris, even make a fool of herself.

Michelle snorted as she checked out, her wallet feeling quite a bit lighter for so few ingredients, and accepted the 75% recycled paper bag with an absent thank you to the girl who had checked her out.

It was the black candle.

She didn’t believe that love and anger are equal in her search for Iris even if she fully acknowledged that both were present.

The way it extinguished itself (if she believed that) when she finally, finally admitted how angry she was out loud. Not just at Iris’ disappearance, which she fully admitted, but all the other perceived slights and one-upmanship throughout their lives.

That night, she drew a regretfully unscented bubble bath, unsure if any scents would interfere with the curandera’s spell.

Sage, or Salvia, ‘to save’ or ‘to heal.’ It was supposedly supposed to help cleanse and purify the aura and room, to help with grief and death, with protection and success.

Bergamot, a citrus commonly used to aid in prosperity and success, as well as connecting a person to themselves after they have been through grief and trauma.

Lavender, not only purify, but to promote a long life and bring peace.

Chamomile, to calm nerves, attract prosperity, soothe tempers and break any curses.

It definitely seemed like a bunch of hokum to her and she had been undecided on if she would actually go through with this… spell. At least until she had talked to the elder Strand, who had pointed out that after three years, maybe changing it up in an irrational way is the rational thing to do.

The New York transplant was definitely more open-minded than most Texan natives.

Michelle closed her eyes and whispered a prayer as she lit her candles. A prayer for forgiveness, for benediction, for hope. 

A deep breath and a rolled, crisp $100 bill was set alight.

For Iris. For herself.

Climbing into the bath, she reveled in the warmth that soothed her aching muscles, breathed in the herbs and citrus that dotted the otherwise pristine liquid.

Lying her head back on porcelain, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, clearing her mind as much as possible.

She opened them again to the family’s old ranch, dilapidated buildings and weathered wood standing stark against the Texas landscape.

“Mimi! Come on!”

Wide eyes sought out the figure of her sister, of Iris, maybe 7 or 8 years old. Dark hair was coming out of braided pigtails, jeans ripped and scuffed with dirt from playing outside.

“Mimi!” The call was full of laughter, a grin on her sister’s face even as Michelle grimaced.

She never had managed to stop Iris from calling her Mimi even though she had always hated it. What she wouldn’t give to hear it again.

“Mama said we could go kitten hunting in the barn. There’s a new litter!”

Michelle looked down as her hand was used to pull her along the terrain, somehow aware that she was in her normal, adult body. If Iris was 7 or 8, she should’ve just been starting her awkward teenage phase.

She blinked as they were plunged into darkness, the only light seeping in through gaps in the boards that made the barn walls. It smelt of hay and dampness and animal musk. Abruptly, Michelle was beyond homesick. It had been too many years since she had moved to Austin.

Gradually, her eyes adjusted and she could see Iris poking around bales of hay, scrambling over them to peek into tack shelves. This particular barn wasn’t used for much more than storage, the Brand patriarch having built a newer, up-to-date one before Michelle had even been born.

“Come on, Mimi! Don’t you want to see the kittens?”

Michelle shook her head and joined the apparition of her sister on the hunt for the barn cat’s latest litter. She was pretty sure she remembered that they never did find them, the mother cat’s trust only going so far with the humans it cohabitated with.

Her mind turned back, trying to remember what else had happened that day. The girls had spent close to an hour looking for the kittens before Michelle had abandoned her sister to deal with the vagaries of teen life. She vaguely remembered tying up the phone with talking to her best friend about a boy one of them liked as they ostentatiously worked on homework, so the parents wouldn’t interrupt too much. Iris had made her way to one of the pastures: if baby kittens couldn’t be found, baby cows or horses could.

Michelle remembered how unexpected medical school had been for her younger sister. Not just because it was that one step further than Michelle herself, as always, but that it wasn’t veterinary medicine. The youngest Blake girl had always been animal mad.

“Mimi!” It was followed by a shriek as the smaller girl tumbled from the overhead loft, ancient wood giving way beneath the unexpected weight. She landed with a thud, dust and dirt billowing up around her from the impact.

Iris immediately began coughing, her eyes tearing.

“Iris!” Michelle moved to her younger sister, practiced eyes roving the girl’s body for injury. She reached out to help her sit up, fingers running lightly over her back.

“Were you looking? Did we get them?” She coughed again, hand tapping on her chest.

“I didn’t see any kittens,” was the exasperated answer. Streamline focused on exactly what she wanted, just like always.

“Did you find her?” Michelle stared as the shadows around them fluctuated. Iris’ mouth was moving, but that wasn’t the child’s young high voice. Instead, it sounded more like herself, and she flinched at the desperateness. In the corner of her eye, she caught the flash of curly, caramel hair.

“Did you find me?” She could only watch in silence as Iris changed, growing into her adult body, hair lengthening and curves filling out.

“Did you find me, Mimi?”

Michelle woke abruptly, sloshing bathwater onto the tile floor as she sat up. The bubbles were long gone and she shivered as she stood, the cool water having stolen the warmth from her body. The candles were dark, gentle wisps of smoke tracing through the air. 

Grabbing a towel, she stepped to the sink, wiping away steam that shouldn’t be there to look into her own reflected eyes as her sister’s voice echoed through both the bathroom and her mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated!


End file.
